


skater boy (see ya later, boy)

by greyskieslatenights



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexuality, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Slice of Life, Underage Drinking, american-ish schools but everyone's korean apparently, it's slight but there are tones of it, skater boy!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 10:04:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20890325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyskieslatenights/pseuds/greyskieslatenights
Summary: Seungcheol's not exactly in the mood to babysit his cousin and his friend, but sometimes a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do.And sometimes, the guy runs into another guy, and Seungcheol doesn't really know how he feels about this guy, but it's not that important.Right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiniInfinity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniInfinity/gifts).

> this quickly spiraled out of control, sprung forth after i asked for a 3 sentence fic from gen lmfao. the summary is GARBAGE i am SORRY i might change it later. based loosely on avril lavigne's [sk8r boi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TIy3n2b7V9k), an iconic song if i ever heard one.

Seungcheol doesn’t exactly want to be here.

He’s seventeen years old—he’s too old and too cool to be babysitting his thirteen-year-old cousin and his dweeby friend at the skate park. He should be out with his own friends at house parties that they all swore to their parents they wouldn’t go to, sneaking around wine coolers and trying to get numbers from the cute girls from other schools.

Or something. Anything but watching a bunch of gangly preteens try and fail twenty thousand times to do something or other on a board with four wheels.

He’s not even getting paid for this.

“Hyung!” Hansol calls out. “Can you help film me and Chan try and slide off this railing?”

Seungcheol _ really _ wants to tell his cousin to grow a pair and ask the round-faced kid in the sweater vest over on the park bench that _ clearly _keeps eyeing him, but he knows that he’ll never hear the end of it from his mom and his aunt if he doesn’t fulfill his older-cousin duties.

So with a mighty sigh, he walks over to the two, holding his hand out for Hansol’s phone (_ he _ didn’t have a smartphone at that age—there’s no fucking justice in this world) and letting himself get shuffled around until the two tweens are happy with his position.

“You can start recording early!” Chan lisps, his tongue poking slightly through a gap in his upper teeth. “We can cut it later, we just wanna make sure you get the whole thing.”

“Mmhm,” Seungcheol mumbles, pressing record. 

“Hi! I’m Vern!”

“And I’m Dino!”

“And we’re gonna grind on this railing!”

Seungcheol doesn’t need a high school diploma to predict the outcome of this—Chan makes a valiant attempt to jump up onto the railing, misses by a good three inches, and crashes into a pole. At the very least, the two kids aren’t stupid enough to not wear protective gear.

“You almost had it that time, Chan,” Hansol says.

_ He really didn’t “almost have it,” _ Seungcheol thinks, but he holds his tongue.

“Hey, are you alright?” a new voice cuts in—it’s almost comical how the three of them turn immediately to see who it is.

_ “No way,” _ Hansol gasps. “Woozi? Like, _ the _ Woozi?”

Chan seems similarly enthralled, if not slightly dazed still from his crash.

Seungcheol has no idea who he is, and although Hansol and Chan seem to have some idea of who the mystery kid is, he’ll be damned if he lets this turn into a tongue-lashing from Chan’s mom about letting her precious baby boy talk to strangers.

So he tucks Hansol’s phone into his pocket, straightens up to his full height (sure, he’s pretty average, but he’s definitely taller than that kid), and walks over.

“Sorry, _ who _ are you, exactly?” Seungcheol asks.

“Hyung, this is Woozi,” Hansol replies, “he’s like, a _ god _ of tricks and jumps on YouTube and stuff.”

Woozi looks remarkably uncomfortable, the tips of his fingers fiddling with his overlong sleeves. “I… wouldn’t put it that way, but yeah. I post skate videos online and stuff.”

“No, really, you’re so good.” Chan seems to have regained his faculties of speech. “Your _ 5 Takes on an Ollie _ video was straight up inspirational.”

“Ah, well, um, thanks,” Woozi replies. “That was a really old one.”

“That’s what got me into skating!” Chan beams. “I didn’t know you came to this skate park, Mr. Woozi.”

The skater looks massively uncomfortable, slim fingertips fidgeting with his too-long sleeves. “Really, the ‘mister’ stuff is super unnecessary. Just call me hyung.” He pauses. “Or… Jihoon. My name is Jihoon.”

Chan looks like he’s about to faint, and Vernon doesn’t seem in much of a better state. Seungcheol is finding it really hard not to roll his eyes at this. Woozi—Jihoon—_ whoever _ he is, is just a tiny guy that does things on a skateboard. It’s not like he’s a chart-topping singer or a movie star or even a real athlete.

Seungcheol glances down at his phone—it’s almost six, and his aunt’s probably going to be home soon, which means time to take these knuckleheads home and then ask Jeonghan if he knows if anything fun is happening tonight.

He clears his throat loudly, obnoxious on purpose. “Hansol, it’s time to go. Your mom’s gonna be home soon.”

“But _ hyung _!” Hansol exclaims, “this is, like, so big.”

_ “So big,” _ Chan echoes.

“Like, probably my most favorite person in the world, after my mom.” Hansol glances between Chan and Woozi-Jihoon. “And Chan. No offense Woo-Jihoon-hyung. The best friend creed.”

“None taken.” The corners of Woozi-Jihoon’s lips curl up, feline.

“Honestly, hyung,” Chan sighs, “I wouldn’t even have been offended if you said Jihoon-hyung was your favorite.”

“Hey,” Woozi-Jihoon grumbles, waving his hand in front of his face, “don’t get all weird on me now, guys. I’m just a regular high school guy.”

“With, like, one-point-three million subscribers on YouTube!” Chan interjects.

“Okay, well, besides that, I guess,” Woozi-Jihoon concedes. “But my life isn’t crazy or anything. I live with my family and go to school and hate studying for tests. I don’t even post that often anymore since I’ve had to start doing SAT prep and all.”

Chan especially doesn’t seem entirely convinced by Woozi-Jihoon’s nonchalance; Hansol, ever the more relaxed of the two, seems to take it in stride.

“‘s all good, bro,” Hansol says. “I’d definitely like to talk skate with you more sometime, though. We’ve been tooling around and all that for a while but it’s all just kid stuff, y’know?”

“You are just a kid,” Seungcheol grumbles. It’s 6:15 and he’s already got a few texts from his aunt asking where the boys are.

“And who’re you?” Woozi-Jihoon asks, addressing Seungcheol for the first time. Seungcheol is almost offended, but this guy’s just another kid—not worth his time.

“That’s my cousin, Seungcheol,” Hansol says. “My aunt made him chaperone us.”

“Chaperone?” Woozi-Jihoon raises an eyebrow that disappears beneath his bangs. “How old are you guys?”

“I’m thirteen,” Hansol says. “My mom’s not so bad with me, but Chan’s twelve and his mom gets kind of antsy if he’s out alone.”

Woozi-Jihoon turns to Seungcheol, brow still raised. “Are you that much older than them?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “Seventeen. But Chan’s like, actually still a baby, so it counts.”

“I’m _ not _ a baby!” Chan pouts. He is ignored.

“If mom’s texting you, that means Chan’s mom is probably texting _ her _, and that’s got to be annoying,” Hansol sighs. “We should probably get going.”

Chan nods in agreement, still pouting.

Woozi-Jihoon looks down at his shoes, teeth pulling at his lower lip. It’s a little weird, Seungcheol thinks, that the guy isn’t even going to say goodbye or anything.

“Make sure you guys get all your shi—stuff,” Seungcheol says, catching himself at the end. Chan isn’t _ that _much of a baby, but he’s been on the receiving end of one of Chan’s mom’s displeased talks before and he isn’t about to subject himself to that again.

“Yeah, hyung, we’ll get it,” Chan sighs. He and Hansol pick up their boards and amble over to the park bench where they’d left their backpacks.

Seungcheol hears a noise—it’s somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, and he’s not sure whether or not he should take offense.

“What?” he ends up asking, only halfway confrontational.

Woozi-Jihoon shrugs. “Nothing. It’s just… interesting. I’m an only child. I don’t really get this whole…” He waves his hands around, gesturing vaguely in front of him. “Brotherly sort of thing.”

Seungcheol eyes him. “I mean, it’s alright. Kind of a pain sometimes, though.”

“Like now?” Woozi-Jihoon asks. When Seungcheol balks, he does his scoff-laugh again.

“It’s really obvious that you don’t really want to be here, y’know,” Woozi-Jihoon says. “I saw you earlier, too. Glowering at your phone a lot.”

I mean, the guy’s not wrong, but… “Wait, you were _ watching _ me?”

“No!” Woozi-Jihoon immediately, _ vehemently _ protests. “I was at the park. You were at the park. You looked like an anomaly. The brain is wired to focus on things that look weird.”

“An anomaly,” Seungcheol repeats. “What, do I got something on my face or something?”

Seungcheol’s pretty aware that at this point he’s just pushing Woozi-Jihoon’s buttons, but it’s _ funny, _ for fuck’s sake.

Woozi-Jihoon lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a squeak and a growl. The guy sure seems to make a lot of weird noises. “No! You just _ clearly _ didn’t look like you belonged here. So. I saw you. That’s it, that’s all, nothing else to it.”

Seungcheol holds out his hands in front of him. “Chill, dude. I’m not mad. I’ve been told I have a nice face, anyway.”

“Yeah. Sure. If you’ve got such a nice face, why are you here on a Friday afternoon instead of somewhere where someone might actually want to see your mug?”

_ Ouch. _ “It’s because I’m such a great older cousin,” Seungcheol huffs. That reminds him, though, that he’s actually here for a reason. “A great older cousin who’s got to get some kiddos home before he gets his head chopped off by a helicopter mom. _ Jesus, _Hansol, Chan, hurry up!”

Hansol and Chan yell out something that Seungcheol can’t decipher, but head back over relatively quickly, all things considered.

“It was, like, super cool to meet you, Jihoon-hyung,” Hansol says, grinning.

“Can we get a picture?” Chan blurts out. “I mean, if it’s okay with you.”

Woozi-Jihoon laughs. “Sure.”

“You still have my phone, right?” Hansol asks Seungcheol, who digs around in his jeans pocket to make sure he’s got the right one.

“Alright,” Seungcheol sighs, “arrange yourselves and let me know when you’re ready.”

Hansol and Chan bicker between themselves until they ultimately decide to just stand on either side of Woozi-Jihoon. Both of the kids grin wide and toothy; Jihoon adjusts his beanie, mouth curving up just a little.

Seungcheol takes a few pictures, holding the phone out for Hansol and Chan to inspect as they race over.

“Awesome. Thanks again so much, Jihoon-hyung,” Hansol gushes.

“I can die happy now,” Chan sighs.

Seungcheol groans. “Please don’t. Your mother would kill me, and I would like to not die _ quite _ yet, thanks.”

Jihoon laughs, covering his mouth with one sleeve. “Yeah, you probably shouldn’t die quite yet. Not ‘til you’ve got your grind down, at least.”

Chan stares at the railing he’d crashed into and sighs. “I guess.”

“Hey, I can help you out with that sometime. If you’d like.”

“Oh, _ shit! _” Chan squeaks. “I-I mean, yes, absolutely, sir, that would be most fantastic if you would.”

“I can give you guys my number,” Woozi-Jihoon offers. “I can’t promise I’ll always be around, but we can definitely try and meet up sometime.”

Seungcheol’s never seen anyone whip out their phones so fast in his entire life, and he’s seen Kim Mingyu finally get that librarian’s TA to give him his number. Woozi-Jihoon rattles off a string of digits, which Hansol and Chan enter into their contacts with reverence.

Woozi-Jihoon turns to look at Seungcheol next, tilting his head to the side as he pushes out his lips. “You want my number, too, while we’re at it?”

Seungcheol is well and truly baffled. “Um.”

Woozi-Jihoon shrugs. “‘s cool. Just thought I’d ask. In case you ever want me to watch these kids instead, or something.”

“Or something,” Seungcheol repeats in disbelief. There’s a weird part of him that thinks this guy is trying to hit on him, but that makes absolutely no sense at all, so he unlocks his phone and hands it over. If things get weird, he can just block him, anyway.

“Cool,” Woozi-Jihoon says as he hands Seungcheol’s phone back. “I’ll see you two around sometime, yeah?”

“For sure.” Hansol holds out his fist for a bump; Woozi-Jihoon obliges, and Chan immediately sticks his hand out for the same.

“Okay, guys,” Seungcheol sighs. “We really need to get home, because I got shi—stuff I need to do, too.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hansol rolls his eyes. “Thanks again, Jihoon-hyung!”

The three of them walk to the parking lot; Hansol and Chan are already dissecting and reliving the minutiae of their twenty-odd minutes with Woozi-Jihoon, which Seungcheol tunes out easily as he unlocks his car and climbs into the driver’s seat. He pulls out his phone and unlocks it to put the GPS on—it opens to the new contact that had been added, _ Lee Jihoon. _

Seungcheol blinks at it once, twice, before pressing _ home _ to access his maps app to take them to Hansol’s house.

By the time they’re on the road, he’s already forgotten the name.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol goes to a house party and runs into the last person he'd expect to. A mild existential crisis occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as you might guess from the chapter summary, there's underage drinking in this chapter. I definitely don't suggest or condone it!! always drink responsibly (drink_water_not_alcohol.gif)

_ Angel: yo you know those chinese international students  
_ _ Angel: the one with the big eyes and his friend that always wears those long coats and tiny glasses  
_ _ Shua: i know jun, not sure about the other one  
_ _ Shua: why?  
_ _ Angel: word’s out they’re throwing a banger tonight  
_ _ Shua: don’t you have a literature exam on monday? _

Seungcheol glances over at his phone pinging next to him on his desk, chat bubbles popping up just as fast as he can read them. He’s not entirely sure who Jeonghan’s talking about, either, but he’s not about to turn down the opportunity to kick back and let a little loose.

_ Angel: don’t worry about it  
_ _ Angel: the teacher loves me  
_ _ Shua: how do you always do that?? _

_ lol shua not sure you rly want to know the answer to that question _

_ Angel: so he lives!  
_ _ Angel: cheol r u down or what  
_ _ Angel: i heard hyejin’s going  
_ _ Angel: don’t think i haven’t seen you eyeing her butt in physics  
_ _ Shua: JEONGHAN _

_ JEONGHAN  
_ _ just because we let you call yourself angel in the chat doesn’t mean i won’t whoop your ass _

_ Angel: lol chill  
_ _ Shua: guys, please, no ass whooping  
_ _ Shua: i can’t take any sides or be complicit here  
_ _ Shua: my mom would literally kill me if i got my early acceptance revoked  
_ _ Angel: just saying, you maybe could make a move instead of batting your pretty little lashes at her _

_ damn josh lol  
_ _ no one’s asking you to be complicit _

_ Shua: okay but WHO do you think is gonna have to bail you guys out of jail  
_ _ Shua: i’ll give you a hint  
_ _ Shua: it’s gotta be someone who ISN’T in jail  
_ _ Angel: cheol you still haven’t answered  
_ _ Angel: u in or nah?  
_ _ Angel: and pls say you’re in bc chaeyoung’s going and she’s been giving me eyes all week  
_ _ Angel: at least one of us should have some semblance of a love life _

Jeonghan’s not wrong—for a bunch of high school seniors, and decently attractive ones at that, things have been pretty pitiful for them. To be fair, Joshua’s always been the type who wanted to date one person for his entire life and marry them, while Jeonghan tended to have a flavor of the month (sometimes more than one a month, sometimes with gaps in between), but still.

(There’s no _ fucking _ way Seungcheol’s going to admit to himself that _ he’s _just with the one with an unfulfilling love life, nosiree.)

_ fuck it  
_ _ count me in _

_ Shua: LANGUAGE _

According to Jeonghan, the party “starts at 9,” meaning they’ll meet at Joshua’s (the eternal designated driver) around 10. Seungcheol busies himself with homework and YouTube until 9:30, giving him plenty of time to get ready.

He’s less high-maintenance than Jeonghan is when it comes to these things, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to put in a little effort to look nice. He showers, making sure to use the “nice shampoo” Jeonghan foisted upon him instead of his usual supermarket-discount brand, and shaves, because if he learned anything from his short-lived sophomore year relationship, it’s that no one likes kissing a stubbly face.

_ Angel: cheol  
_ _ Angel: r u dressed yet_

_no i just showered_

_Angel: oh ok good  
_ _ Angel: wear the tight black ripped jeans _

_ ???  
_ _ didn’t u say those were my gay jeans  
_ _ am i not attempting to get in HYEJIN’S pants tonight _

_ Angel: trust me  
_ _ Angel: if the gays think you look good then so will the girls  
_ _ Angel: a nice ass is universal  
_ _ Shua: han we love you but you’re also an idiot  
_ _ Shua: and you know it takes a lot for me to call you that  
_ _ Angel: don’t listen to him  
_ _ Angel: if hyejin doesn’t appreciate your ass then you’ll find SOMEONE in that house who will _

_ ...should i be concerned that you’ve been paying so much attention to my ass? _

_ Angel: shh, sweet child  
_ _ Angel: just thank me later _

Seungcheol isn’t entirely convinced (see: that time in eighth grade where Jeonghan had convinced him and Joshua that bucket hats were cool. They weren’t.), but for the most part, Jeonghan’s fashion advice tends to put him on the right path.

So grabs his backpack and shoves his jeans inside, pulling on a pair of joggers in the interim. He decides to go with a white v-neck and a black bomber jacket for the rest of his outfit, since it looks good enough. He’s not much of a fashion guy, anyway—Jeonghan’s responsible for about half of his wardrobe, and his mom picked another 40%.

He puts his toothbrush in his bag, makes sure he has his wallet, phone, and keys, and heads out.

“I’m going to Josh’s,” he tells his mom as he walks past the living room. She’s watching some medical soap opera or something—Seungcheol doesn’t understand the appeal, but has been told that chicks dig those for some reason.

“Have fun, sweetie,” she says, beckoning him over to peck him on the cheek before he leaves. “Call us if you need anything.”

“Of course.” He’s pretty sure his parents aren’t stupid and know that about a third of the time he’s “sleeping over at Joshua’s house” he’s getting up to other things, but he’s never really gotten in trouble for anything, so they let it go.

(Except that one time in junior year where they almost had to run from the police, but that was Jeonghan’s fault.)

Joshua’s house is only a couple of blocks away, so he opts to walk instead of spending a dollar on bus fare.

_ im outside _

_ Shua: you know you can ring the doorbell? _ _  
_ _ Angel: cool kids don’t ring doorbells anymore, shua _ _  
_ _ Shua: jeonghan you’re literally sitting next to me why are you in the chat _  
_Angel: why are YOU in the chat replying to me then, hm???_

“Hey,” Joshua says, opening the door. “Han’s in my room, cackling at himself, or something. You know how it is.”

Seungcheol nods. He does know how it is. He kicks his shoes off in the entryway, nudging them so they’re at least together instead of strewn about, then follows Joshua into his room, where Jeonghan is, indeed, sitting on a beanbag chair and laughing for reasons unknown.

“Sup,” Seungcheol greets. Jeonghan immediately stops laughing, brushes some of his hair behind his ears, and fixes Seungcheol with a disapproving frown.

“You,” he grumbles. “I need to do your hair, for chrissakes.”

“_Language, _” Joshua sighs, to no avail.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Seungcheol asks. It’s freshly washed, and he doesn’t style his hair much on a daily basis, so he’d just left his hair to dry naturally. “I even used the fancy shampoo!”

“It’s so lifeless,” Jeonghan tuts, rising from the beanbag and immediately running his fingers through the ends of Seungcheol’s hair. “We both know you can’t be me, but maybe try a little harder?”

It’s true—Jeonghan had grown his hair out in junior year after losing a bet, but had actually liked it enough to maintain the hairstyle after the fact. Jeonghan had always been the “pretty one” of the three, but when his hair grew long enough to brush his shoulders, he had inadvertently cemented himself as the prettiest guy at their high school.

“Fine, _ mom._” Seungcheol allows Jeonghan to drag him into the bathroom, where he’s directed to sit on the closed toilet while Jeonghan digs around in Joshua’s hair gel supply.

“Am I allowed to do my own hair?” Joshua asks. 

Jeonghan’s glare answers him.

Seungcheol closes his eyes as Jeonghan starts running his hands through his hair, praying that it’ll be over soon. After what feels like hours, Jeonghan finally withdraws his touch, and Seungcheol hears the sink running, which he takes as his cue that it’s done.

He peers over Jeonghan’s shoulder to look at his reflection in the medicine cabinet—his hair kind of just looks disheveled, but figures that it’s just one of those _ things _ that Jeonghan knows best about.

“Thanks, Han,” he says. 

Jeonghan pats him on the cheek with a damp hand. “Send Shua in, will you? And go put your pants on.”

“Your turn in the torture chamber,” Seungcheol jokes as he heads back into the bedroom. 

Joshua sighs, sitting up on his bed. “Dude, you basically look the same.”

Seungcheol shrugs.

“I heard that!” Jeonghan yells from the bathroom. “Hurry up, Shua, unless you want to be single forever!”

Joshua lets out a grumble of protest, but goes to the bathroom anyway. Seungcheol unzips his backpack and takes out his jeans, stripping off his joggers to change into them. He has to fight them a little bit to get them on, but at least they’re stretchy enough to not completely strangle his legs.

Seungcheol pulls out his phone and scrolls through Instagram as he waits for Jeonghan to finish maiming Joshua. There’s a new notification—Hansol’s tagged him in a post.

_ just met the COOLEST GUY EVER!!!! thanks @woozi_universefactory for talking to us omg i can prolly die in peace now lmao _ _ 📷 @sound_of_coups _

Hansol’s smiling wider than Seungcheol’s seen in recent memory, and Chan’s throwing up peace signs almost aggressively, if that’s even a thing. Seungcheol finds it vaguely amusing that all three of them are around the same height, despite the fact that Woozi (_ Jihoon, _ his mind absently corrects) is at least a few years older than the kids are.

He taps on Woozi’s account handle, curious to see who this guy actually is. _ WOOZI _ doesn’t seem to post all that often for a guy that’s supposed to be at least somewhat internet-famous—barely over a hundred posts despite _ 526k followers? And not following anyone? _ Seungcheol raises a skeptical eyebrow as he taps on the most recent post, which turns out to be a quick video of _ a new trick I’m working on _ posted over a month ago. 

“Who’s that?” Jeonghan asks, voice loud in Seungcheol’s ear.

“_Jesus_.” Seungcheol shudders. “Why do you always feel like you need to do that?”

“Keeps you on your toes.” Jeonghan shrugs. “But for real though, who is that? Didn’t think you were into skateboarding.”

“Some guy named Woozi,” Seungcheol replies. “Hansol and Chan ran into him at the skate park today while I was babysitting them.”

“Doesn’t he go to our school?” Joshua asks, emerging from the bathroom. Jeonghan’s styled his hair up off his forehead, and Seungcheol watches Joshua about to run his fingers through his hair until Jeonghan glares at him pointedly.

“Huh?”

“No, yeah, I think he’s in the year below us,” Joshua continues. “I want to say we were in the same choir class last year.”

Jeonghan peers over to look at Seungcheol’s phone. “Hmm, I think you’re right. Look,” he says, commandeering Seungcheol’s phone against his protests and scrolling down a few rows. “That’s the stairs on the east side of campus, by the language wing.”

“Do I want to know why you recognize the _ stairs _at school?” Seungcheol grumbles, snatching his phone back.

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Cheol-ah, you’re so cute. Where do you think I go when I don’t want to be in world history class?”

“Okay, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Joshua cuts in loudly as he rifles through his closet. “We are all good students in this house!”

“Shua, please,” Jeonghan sighs. “We both know I caught you out there with Yebin when we were supposed to be in English last month.”

“Ha ha ha!” Joshua laughs, the sound forced as he pulls on a t-shirt and a long cardigan. “Let’s not revisit that.”

“Fine,” Jeonghan sighs. “But Cheol,” he says, resting his chin on Seungcheol’s shoulder, “you should ask him if he’s going to the party.”

“Han, there are so many things wrong with that. First of all,” Seungcheol holds out one finger, “he’s _ younger _ than us. That’s kinda weird, maybe?”

Jeonghan quirks an eyebrow. “We’re all students. Doesn’t really matter.”

“Okay, well, second of all, I barely know him. We’ve literally met _ one time _.”

“So? I’d only met you one time before I decided we were going to be friends.”

“That’s _ different_.”

“How?”

“B-because you’re _ you_!” Seungcheol sputters. “You make weird irrational decisions all the time.”

“Rude.” Jeonghan flicks Seungcheol on the ear. “I have impeccable judgment.”

“Remember last week when you tried flirting with Yoora from physics?” Joshua cuts in. “You forgot she had a boyfriend, and he almost decked you in the face.”

Jeonghan waves him off. “A momentary lapse.”

“He was standing _ right next to her— _”

“Anyway!” Jeonghan smiles. “Ask him, don’t ask him. Up to you. I just think maybe you should.”

“You still haven’t really explained _ why _ I should do that, you know.”

“Hmm,” Jeonghan muses. “Chalk it up to an angel’s intuition.”

“You are _ disgusting, _” Joshua groans. “Come on, can we talk about something else? Or maybe we should go, it’s, like, almost 11.”

“I’m cool with that.” Seungcheol locks his phone and puts it in his pocket, then gets his wallet and keys out from his backpack.

“Fine,” Jeonghan sighs. “Let’s go, kids!”

“This is _ my house, _ ” Joshua mutters, “and we’re going in _ my car, _ that _ I’m _ driving.”

Seungcheol gestures helplessly as he follows Jeonghan out of Joshua’s room.

“We’re heading out for a bit, Mrs. Hong,” Jeonghan calls. “We’ll be back before you know it!”

“Ah, don’t stay out too late,” Joshua’s mom scolds, but there’s no bite to it.

“Do we ever?” Jeonghan laughs, blowing her a kiss. Joshua grimaces at the utter shamelessness of it all; Seungcheol only barely manages to keep his expression straight as he waves goodbye at Joshua’s mom.

Joshua’s barely shut and locked the front door before Jeonghan yells “Shotgun!” and runs for the passenger side of Joshua’s Sonata. Joshua and Seungcheol exchange a glance—Jeonghan will be Jeonghan. Seungcheol generally doesn’t fight for the spot, though, since he’s a shit navigator, Joshua always complains about his taste in music, and Joshua and Jeonghan have been friends with each other longer than they’ve been with him.

“Do you have the address, Han?” Joshua asks, leaning back in his seat as he pulls out of the driveway.

“Yeah, I’ll put my maps on,” Jeonghan replies, sticking his phone in the holder on the dash. “It’s off 20th.”

“Got it,” Joshua says, making a left at the intersection.

Seungcheol tunes out, pulling his phone out of his pocket to pass the time. When he opens it, it’s still on Woozi’s Instagram page, but there’s a colored ring around the profile picture. He taps on the picture, opening up a dark, blurry video. His phone’s audio is muted, but he can see some flashing lights and the dim silhouettes of plastic cups and glass bottles.

_ lmao why am i here?? _ reads the caption.

Seungcheol’s mouth suddenly feels uncomfortably dry. There’s got to be more than one party happening on the same night, right?

“Alright, we’re here,” Joshua says, pulling up to the curb. “Have to walk a block, but whatever.”

Seungcheol follows Jeonghan and Joshua down the street as Jeonghan leads them to their destination, but he barely needs the guidance—someone’s very obviously decided to play Top 40 hip-hop as loudly as their cheap speakers will allow.

Jeonghan knocks on the front door three times; the door opens to reveal, of all people, the librarian’s TA whose name always manages to escape Seungcheol.

“Wonwoo?” Joshua asks. _ So that’s the guy that always shushes him. _

Wonwoo cringes, pushing his glasses up his nose with shirt-sleeve covered hands. “Let’s not talk about this.”

“Hyung, hyung!” someone calls from inside the house. A pair of arms suddenly wrap themselves around Wonwoo’s neck and chest, a bright set of canines grinning wide.

“This is my favorite song, come on!”

“Mingyu, you said that about the last three songs.”

“This one is _ really _ my favorite, though!”

Seungcheol prays for Wonwoo’s eardrums, especially given how enthusiastically Mingyu seems to be shouting as he drags the bespectacled boy off into the house.

“Come on,” Jeonghan says, “let’s go get something to start us off.”

The kitchen isn’t too hard to find—people seem to be congregated either in the living room, where the music is the loudest, or around the fridge and three coolers. Joshua opts for a coke while Jeonghan pulls out two White Claws, tossing one to Seungcheol, who glances at the label.

“Really, Jeonghan? Raspberry? That’s the worst,” Seungcheol groans, but cracks open the can anyway.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Cheol,” Jeonghan shout-sighs. “Whoever bought these didn’t get the pack with mango in it.”

Seungcheol nods sagely as the three of them lift up their cans. They’re all just at the mercy of whoever has the best fake ID.

“To making it to second base!” Jeonghan cheers.

“For _ God’s _ sake,” Joshua sighs, but touches his can to Jeonghan’s and Seungcheol’s all the same.

The alcohol doesn’t burn down his throat, but settles warm into his stomach as he downs half the can, letting out a shout. Joshua rolls his eyes, but Jeonghan claps a hand on his shoulder approvingly.

“Let’s get _ fucked!_”

Somewhere between White Claws two and three, a shot of Hennessy, and when he can’t tell where Drake ends and Post Malone begins, Seungcheol loses track of Jeonghan and Joshua. He’s tipsy enough that he doesn’t really mind being alone, taking the opportunity to try and impress a few girls with his _ spectacular _ dance moves.

(If he almost takes Mingyu’s eye out with his elbow, though, he’ll chalk that up to dim lighting and pretend it never happened.)

He works his way through the crowd, intent on finding another drink (_or maybe a bottle of water!_ Joshua’s voice says in his head) when he crashes straight into someone.

“Oh, shit, man, I’m sorry,” Seungcheol says, reaching out to make sure they don’t fall over. It’s no wonder—once they’ve righted themselves, they’re clearly a head shorter than Seungcheol is.

“It’s ok,” a male voice replies. “It’s crowded in here, anyway.”

Seungcheol tilts his head to the side—something about this guy seems familiar to him, somehow.

The boy shakes his hair out of his eyes, adjusting the beanie on his head, when it hits Seungcheol.

“Aren’t you that guy from the park?” he yells.

“What are you talking about?” the boy yells back.

“Skateboard guy?”

His eyes widen in recognition, mouth dropping open into a small _ O. _ “You’re the guy who was with those two kids?”

“Yeah. What was your name again?”

Seungcheol’s not sure why he asks this—he’s pretty sure he already remembers. Maybe plausible deniability, or something stupid like that.

The shorter boy mouths something, but the electronic beats kick up, drowning out the sound of his voice.

“I can’t hear you,” Seungcheol replies, barely able to hear the sound of his own voice over the dull thuds of the bass that shake the house.

The boy appears to sigh, slim fingers wrapping around Seungcheol’s wrist. Before Seungcheol can make another futile attempt at speaking, he finds himself tugged through the house, down a hallway and through a door until he finds himself in the backyard. Seungcheol can still hear the music from outside, but it’s significantly quieter.

Seungcheol waits for the boy to speak, but he seems resolutely determined to stare at the ground instead, as if it holds all of the secrets of the universe. Seungcheol mirrors the motion, gaze tracing the hexagons of the paved stones and the grass that pokes up between them.

“Jihoon,” the boy says suddenly. “My name’s Jihoon.”

“Right,” Seungcheol replies. “I’m—”

“Seungcheol. I remember you.”

“Ah.”

Jihoon’s grasp on his wrist suddenly feels like a vise—Seungcheol’s arm twitches, and Jihoon’s hand drops away. Seungcheol shoves his hand into the pocket of his jeans, wondering why his wrist feels like it’s burning.

“What, uh, brings you here?” Seungcheol asks. The question sounds even dumber spoken than it did in his head.

Jihoon shrugs, kicking at the floor with his beat-up Vans. “Jun’s a friend of mine, and I didn’t have anything better to do tonight.”

“No offense,” Seungcheol says, “but you don’t really strike me as the partying type.”

“None taken. That’s more your thing, isn’t it?” Jihoon gestures in Seungcheol’s general vicinity. “I mean, it’s not like I know you or anything like that, but you seem like a normal high school guy. Goes to parties, hangs out with friends.”

“As opposed to what?”

“I dunno. Not to get all emo on you or anything, but I don’t get out much. I’m not sure what normal’s supposed to be.”

“Does anyone, really?”

A gust of wind blows through the yard, tousling Jihoon’s bangs; the smaller pulls his oversized flannel tighter against himself, arms crossed over his chest.

“Dude, are you cold?” Seungcheol asks. “Do you want to go back inside?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Too loud.”

Seungcheol’s eyes dart around the yard, squinting to make out shapes in the dark. There’s a shed off to the side by a fence, dimly lit by the neighbor’s outdoor lights. He ambles over to it, beckoning Jihoon over.

They sit on the floor by the fence; Jihoon’s tucked his knees up underneath his chin while Seungcheol leans against the side of the shed. The world seems slightly off-kilter in more ways than one.

Neither of them speak.

The whole thing is profoundly awkward, really. Seungcheol has half a mind to find Jeonghan and Joshua from wherever they are and call it a night.

“I was planning to leave, actually. Before you got here.”

“Oh.” 

Jihoon chuckles, staring up at the sky. “I’m drunk, I think. I don’t know. Sorry if this is weird.”

“So ‘m I,” Seungcheol replies. “We all are. Except Josh, because he’s that type. But no judgement, y’know?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, maybe it’s the seclusion, maybe it’s the late hour—Seungcheol couldn’t say. But somehow, despite every normal instinct telling him he should go home, there’s something weirdly captivating about this moment, telling him that maybe he should stay.

“I just,” Jihoon sighs, “this is so… teenage angst-y. But I wonder where I fit in, y’know? Like what impact am I supposed to have, or if I’m even meant to have one? Does anything I do even mean anything?”

_ It is very teenage angst-y, _ Seungcheol’s mind supplies, but he’d be a liar if he didn’t acknowledge that he had those same feelings, too. It’s the time of his life where he’s supposed to be thinking about where he wants to go next and making grand plans for his future, but every time he tries to sit down and think about it, he’s lucky if he pulls more than a blank.

“Aren’t you, like, internet famous?” Seungcheol asks. “I mean, you’ve definitely had an impact on my cousin.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Jihoon replies. “I saw the picture he tagged me in. It’s weird. I usually don’t meet people like that in real life. I forget that people actually watch my stuff even though I can see the numbers.”

“More than I can say for myself.” Seungcheol shrugs. “I’m not sure if anything I do matters at all.”

“I’m sure someone cares,” Jihoon says, voice so soft Seungcheol has to strain to hear it even though they’re right next to each other. “Maybe you just haven’t found them, yet.”

There’s probably something about that that really should warrant more thought from Seungcheol—but as it stands, his brain’s still only running at about half-capacity, so he settles for a noncommittal hum instead. “Maybe you’re right.”

There’s silence, again.

But this time, somehow, it doesn’t feel quite so strange.

Suddenly, Jihoon tips over, cheek resting clumsily on Seungcheol’s shoulder; the elder stiffens at the sudden contact, but makes no move to push Jihoon off.

“Is that comfortable?” Seungcheol asks.

“Comfortable enough,” Jihoon replies, shifting his body slightly so Seungcheol’s shoulder no longer digs into his neck.

“Okay.”

Some deep instinct drives Seungcheol to wrap an arm around Jihoon’s narrow shoulders, pulling him closer, as he leans his own head on top of the younger’s.

(They stay that way, until Joshua appears in Seungcheol’s field of view, informing him that it is, in fact, nearly half past two in the morning, Jeonghan’s already passed out in the car, and they really ought to get going, like, two hours ago.

“I’m gonna sleep on Jun’s couch,” Jihoon says, “but thanks for keeping me company.”

“No problem,” Seungcheol replies, as they extricate themselves from each other and rise to their feet, giving the younger a farewell pat on the back before following Joshua back through the house so they can get to the car.

Joshua doesn’t mention any of it, and neither does Seungcheol as they get in the car and Joshua drives them back to his house, trying as quietly as they can to support an extremely drowsy Jeonghan through the front door.

Seungcheol falls asleep to the thought of soft bangs and slim fingers peeking through oversized shirts.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> consistent chapter length? we don't know her.
> 
> it's been a while since I last posted lmao. it's been a long time since I've written fic in general tbh, but now I have my master's and am delightfully unemployed so maybe I'll finally have more time to write!! hopefully you liked this and hopefully I'll have the next chapter out sooner than (checks notes) 8 months from now.

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly am not 100% sure how i want this fic to progress yet but i'm trying to challenge myself to actually finish a chaptered fic on my own for once in my life so here goes, please bother me and make sure i do it lmao.
> 
> find me on twitter @[soft_coups](https://twitter.com/soft_coups) where i complain about how much i love choi seungcheol, or talk to me at [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/soft_coups)!


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